


When You're Home

by TheLostWeasley



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bottom Clint, Clint Needs a Hug, Clint owns a coffee shop, Clint thinks he's a screw up, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mama Coulson - Freeform, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Not Canon Compliant, POV switch, Past Child Abuse, Phil really loves Clint, Phil's Family - Freeform, Secrets, Shameless Smut, Top Phil, some original characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8766445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostWeasley/pseuds/TheLostWeasley
Summary: Clint and Phil have been together for two years, things are going great until Clint's past increasingly starts to haunt him and secrets become harder to ignore, putting a strain on his relationship.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is so domestic. There are plenty of tags I could add, but I don't want to spoil the plot. 
> 
> The title is from "When You're Home" from In the Heights by Lin-Manuel Miranda. 
> 
> I hope you like this!

“Holy shit,” Clint panted, his voice hoarse, as he rolled off of Phil. 

“What were we fighting about again?” Phil asked, his voice in the same state as Clint's, but his voice was too soft.

Clint had to think about it for a second, and even then he still wasn't sure, “I think, it was either about Valentine's Day or politics.” His own voice sounded strange. He touched his ear, finding one of his hearing aids was missing. He'll find it later. 

He didn't remember what they had been fighting about. He did remember having a bad day, and then coming home to argue with Phil about something stupid, leading to three days of barely speaking to each other, which was fairly easy because they hadn't moved into together yet, but it was difficult too. Clint missed him the second he walked out the door. Then Clint realised half of his clothes were at Phil's. Clint had plenty of clothes at the time and he wasn't going to waste detergent on two pairs of boxers, two shirts, and a pair of jeans. He went when he thought Phil wouldn't be home, but of course, he was home. Clint only remembered meeting Phil's eyes, and then his back was shoved against the door, slamming it shut, with Phil's lips on his. Clint was sure he blacked out towards the end when he screamed his way through his orgasm. 

“I think we fucked the fight out of each other's minds,” Clint told him. 

Phil laughed, pulling Clint to his chest, “I'm sorry, for whatever it was, and I love you.” 

Clint lifted his head to look at Phil, “I'm sorry too,” he leaned in capturing Phil's lips with his own, “I love you more than Captain Kirk loves the Enterprise.” 

“That much, huh?” Phil smiled, kissing him again. 

“Mm, maybe we can prove our love for each other again,” Clint said, trying to sound sexy and dramatic, but knowing it failed considering Phil huffed out a laugh, lazily starting to kiss Clint again.

Their cozy bubble popped when Phil started to pull away and get up. Why would Phil disrupt his comfort? Clint was usually the one to ruin a moment. Phil stood up, signing ‘door’ to him. That was odd. They weren't expecting anyone. Phil grabbed the first pair of pants he saw and damn, did Phil's ass fill out his jeans nicely. 

Clint tore his eyes away to watch Phil's lips. “Who is it?” Phil called out, his shoulders tense and his fingers twitching towards the gun Clint knew he had hidden under the shelf near the door. Phil wasn't subtle when it came to where he hid his guns around his apartment, but that was the FBI for you. It was cute that Phil thought he had to protect Clint though. It was sweet, and put a dopey smile on Clint's face. Actually, anything involving Phil put that smile on his face. 

Clint didn't hear the answer, but Phil relaxed and turned to him, signing ‘put some clothes on.’ 

“I can't lay here and admire your ass in my jeans?” Clint mumbled, reluctantly standing up and pulling on Phil's sweatpants and Rangers t-shirt. Clint tossed Phil his Flash shirt.

Phil tugged the t-shirt over his head and then opened the door, letting in a man with head to toe black clothing and an eyepatch to match. 

“Do you have a wooden leg too?” Clint asked the man, who took in his appearance.

His eyebrow rose, his gaze landing on Phil, “Did I interrupt something?” 

“Nope, we’re finished.” 

“Really? I thought round two was on the agenda.” Clint commented, planting himself on the couch. 

“Clint, this is my friend and boss, Marcus. Marcus, this is my boyfriend, Clint.” Phil introduced. 

Marcus chuckled, “I like him already.” He held his hand out and Clint shook it, “Nice to finally meet you.” 

“Never heard of you, but it's nice to meet you too.”

Marcus turned to Phil again and gave him a look. Phil only shrugged. Phil didn't talk about work often, usually only when he had to go to another state for a case. He didn't talk about friends much either. Clint figured he didn't have many friends, like himself. Phil did talk about someone who recruited him from the Rangers to the FBI. Clint assumed this was that friend. It was nice to know Phil talked about him though. 

“What can I do for you, Marcus?” Phil asked. 

“Well, it is pizza night.” 

“Pizza night?” Clint chimed in. 

Marcus looked at him, “Once a month we try to get together, catch up, that sort of thing. Tonight is that night.” 

“I can make you guys a homemade pizza,” Clint got up and headed to the kitchen, “And then get out of your hair to leave you to your bro time.” He didn't want to get in their way. He understood they needed some friend time. 

Clint felt a gentle hand grab his bicep. He turned to see an equally gentle smile on Phil's lips, “You don't have to go,” and placed a feather light kiss to his lips. 

*****

“Help me find my ear?” Clint asked Phil, after Marcus left. 

Their unexpected evening went well. Marcus told him embarrassing stories of Phil's early days in the bureau and some of the strange case that came across their desks. He learned Marcus also kept his professional and personal lives separate. Although, if Marcus noticed something off with Phil on the clock, they made their way to a nearby Starbucks to talk about their feelings like grown ups. He knew Phil would do the same for his friend, even though Marcus could be an asshole, but he seemed to make up for it by being a good friend. 

Clint found his hearing aid on the window sill. He didn't put it back on because Phil signed, ‘shower?’ when he held up the hearing aid in triumph. 

Phil turned on the shower, while Clint grabbed towels, took off Phil's sweat pants, and stepped in the shower to get a head start. Phil's shower wasn't exactly big enough for two grown men, but they made it work. Who wouldn't want to be cramped in a small space with their significant other? 

Clint's shower was bigger though. Actually, his entire apartment was larger than Phil's, and he didn't have any neighbours. He had been thinking about asking Phil to move in with him for awhile, but hadn't asked yet because well, they had that argument and Clint couldn't help but feel that Phil might not want to live with him. Maybe he's too much of a pain in the ass. Maybe he was right, and Phil really was way out of his league. What handsome, sweet, successful man would want Clint? Clint was ten years younger than Phil, and Phil was bisexual. What if he realised that he really didn't want Clint? He was so much younger than Phil, and Phil could have anyone, what if he found a beautiful woman his own age to settle down and have kids with? What was so great about Clint? 

He jumped when he felt an arm slide down his arm, instantly relaxing when he turned around to find Phil looking at him with worry and gentle eyes.

“You're everything to me, Clint. I'm not entirely sure what's going on in that mind of yours, but you can tell that “what if" voice to fuck off because I'm not going anywhere.” 

He surged forward, pressing their lips together in a firm, but soft kiss, the warm water falling around them from the shower head.

“Will you move in with me?” Clint asked, his dopey smile stretching across his lips.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got excited by the feedback I got from the first chapter, so here's another chapter!

Clint smiled, ducking his head due to the sweet emotion bubbling in his chest. He held the last box of Phil's things in his hands. Phil agreed to move in with him months ago, but they weren't able to move everything into Clint's apartment.Phil was trying to hunt down a serial killer and Clint had to go to the New York cafe, since they were “having trouble with the finances.” That's what Clint told Phil anyway. Owning coffee shops in three different cities was helpful, but that was the only occupation he was starting to feel he needed. 

He either needed to quit or tell Phil, which was something he didn't want to do. If he did tell Phil, he would surely leave and he wasn't OK with that. 

Phil made him happy, ridiculously happy. 

“Are you OK?” He heard Phil say. 

Clint put his smile back on his face and shrugged, the box still in his hands, “I just like seeing our stuff in our apartment.” He felt his cheeks heat up. Phil just smiled at him, but it faded quickly when he looked at the box Clint was holding. 

“You can just put that in a closet,” Phil told him. 

“Why?” He smirked, “What's in here? Did you have some hidden sex toys I didn't know about?” 

Phil laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably, “No, it's just- It's not important.” He went to grab the box, but Clint pulled it out of his reach, set it down on the table, and opened it. He looked back at Phil, smiling at what he found. 

He took out one of the many Captain America comic books, “These are definitely going on the bookshelf.” 

“You don't have too,” Phil said, following Clint to the bookshelf in the living room. 

“These are a part of you and you shouldn't hide it. Comic books are damn cool too,” He started putting the comic books on the shelf, when he felt Phil's arms wrap around his waist, pulling Clint against his chest. 

Phil didn't say anything, and he didn't have to. Clint knew how much Phil loved him because he loved Phil just as much, which was why he needed to get out of the mercenary business, hang up his bow, and say goodbye to Hawkeye. 

Hawkeye had been apart of his life for so long. He joined the circus at such a young age, dealing with pressures Trickshot and Swordsman put on him, and how he survived, he wasn't sure. He was taught how to use a bow and arrow, and he was actually good at it. He wanted to put his skills to good use. Becoming a mercenary was easy money, and he helped rid the world of shitty people. Could he walk away? He was technically doing some good. He could sell the coffee shops, lay low until the next job. 

No. He couldn't do that, because he promised the original owner he would take care of the business. He helped the owners get some nasty people off their backs and they had left him their shops in their will. Having the shops grounded him. It was something normal and safe in his messed up life. 

So was Phil. 

He met Phil in the shop in D.C. The moment he walked in Clint was gone. Everything around him disappeared, and Phil was the only person in existence. Nothing else was relevant, but knowing this person who had turned his world inside out in a matter of seconds. With his suit tailored to perfection on Phil's lean body, his hair thinning, and his shining green eyes, he made his way up to the counter to order a banana muffin and a black coffee. 

Phil stirred something inside of him. He started thinking about the risks of being a mercenary and the tolls it took on him. He realised how inconvenient broken and bruised bones were, when they hadn't been such a big deal before. His life suddenly became more important to him. He wanted to do good in the world, but he also wanted a home and someone to come home to, lead a life that didn't involve killing, danger, and enemies. The more he got to know Phil, the more he thought about his distant future. 

Clint turned in Phil's arms, “Let's put the rest of your things away, order Thai, and cuddle on the couch with an 80s movie in.” 

Phil smiled, “Sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody gets a hug!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> There may be some smut in this.

Two years ago

He needed to man up. It's been almost a year since he met Phil and he still hadn't made a move. Every time Phil came in, he was either half asleep or in a rush. The man was a work alcoholic and someone needed to take care of him, make sure he was getting his sleep and eating his vegetables, and damnit, Clint wanted to be that person. He was going to do it. He was going to ask Phil out. 

Or just stand there staring at the beautiful man, waiting for the order to drop to his knees and submit, like he was doing now. 

Wait, he was at the Boston shop. He was actually there to work. It wasn't used for an excuse to go to another country all the time. 

What the hell was Phil doing in Boston? 

“I'm starting to think this is a sign,” Clint told him.

Phil raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” 

Clint gave him a flirty smile, or he hoped that's how it came off as, “A sign that you should go on a date with me. First, New York, D.C., and now Boston. The universe is obviously trying to tell us something.”

To Clint's surprise, Phil laughed. A real laugh, his eyes shining with delight and crinkling at the corners, the joy on his face taking away years of sleepless nights. His laugh was full and soft in volume. Or Clint's hearing aids could be turned down. He wasn't sure, but he was sure he wanted to hear that sound as much as possible. Hopefully, Phil was laughing at his horrible attempt with using charm or he was laughing at Clint in general. 

“No, no,” Phil said between puffs of breath, “I'm not laughing at you. That was just a terrible line and you knew that, but you were so sincere.” Phil had stopped laughing, but his eyes were still bright. He made his way up to the counter separating them, with a smile on his face, “I would love to go out with you.” 

“Really?” Clint squeaked out. They had never been so close together. Clint could smell his cologne. He smelled like the forest and citrus. 

“Really. I like you, Clint.” 

Clint reluctantly peeled his eyes away from Phil's to grab paper, a pen, and to quickly write his number on it. He slid the piece of paper towards Phil's fingers. 

“Call me when you get back to D.C., or sooner, if you want.” Clint told him,feeling his cheeks heat up. “I'll get you your usual coffee and muffin. It's on the house.” 

“You don't have to do that.” 

“I want to.” 

They stayed silent, while Clint made Phil's coffee and got his raspberry muffin; Phil usually got banana nut in the morning and raspberry at night. He couldn't help but smile like a fool.

After they said goodnight and the door closed behind Phil, Clint may have jumped up and down in glee, but stopped when he heard tapping on the window and saw Phil standing there with an amused look on his face. Clint's eyes widened and he dropped to the floor behind the counter. 

Now Phil would never want to go out with him. Why did he have to make a fool out of himself all the time? 

His cellphone started ringing.

He answered with a tentative, “Hello?” 

“I'm leaving Boston tomorrow night,” it was Phil, “But I'm free for lunch, if you would like to join me.”

“You still want to go out with me?” 

“Of course, I do. Just because you expressed your excitement, doesn't mean I suddenly don't want to get to know you.” Phil was being honest, he could hear it in his voice. 

“Lunch tomorrow sounds great,” Clint told him. 

**** 

Clint still couldn't believe his awful pick up line worked. Well, the line itself didn't work, but he was with Phil and he was damn happy. 

Phil had the week off. It was nice having Phil all to himself, even if Clint had to work. The shop was right under their apartment, so Phil would come down to the shop and help out when they got busy. Clint had never shown Phil how to use the machines or registers, yet he didn't hesitate to make the customers their orders. When Clint gave him a look, Phil only shrugged and winked, saying he watched Clint plenty of times, implying he was watching Clint's ass. 

It was a baking day, so they had to close the shop early to bake for the morning. Clint told Phil to relax, but he insisted he would help Clint. It was going well, until Clint decided it would be hilarious to smear crushed banana across Phil's cheek and Phil retaliated by cracking an egg over Clint's head. It only got worse from there. Their kitchen was a mess and so were they, covered in eggs, flour, sugar, and crushed fruit, but there they were, in the middle of the batter drenched table. 

Phil's fingers were digging into his hips and his legs were tightly secured around Phil's waist. 

“Do we ever have sex in a bed?” Phil questioned, his breathing slightly laboured. 

“What's the fun in that?” Clint panted out, fingers clutching the edge of the table, “Besides, there was that first time.” 

“We did it on the floor,” Phil reminded him, giving a sharp thrust of his hips, “You broke my lamp.” 

“My boot broke your lamp.”

“Your boot didn't have a mind of its own.”

“I lost my balance, you asshole.”

“Well, if that's how you feel,” Phil said, starting to pull away from Clint, but Clint realised he was actually about to act like an asshole and leave him to finish himself. He sat up as much as he could, hands on either side of Phil's face, and yanked him down to kiss him hard, pulling Phil closer in the process, causing him to moan and arch his back into Phil. Their kiss became sloppy and their breathing harsh the faster their bodies moved together, but they weren't close enough. Clint needed Phil closer and Phil wasn't taking a hint with Clint's grabby and pulling hands. 

Clint started to pull away, “Wait, wait,” Phil had moved his mouth to Clint's neck, “Stop for a second.” 

Phil's hands were off of him immediately and he was stepping away, “Are you OK? I wasn't hurting, was I?” He asked, concern written on his face as he looked up and down Clint's body. 

“Hey, you didn't hurt me. Far from it,” He panted out, “I just need you to be closer and I don't want to accidentally kick you in the face.” 

“...What are you talking about?” 

Clint only moved so he was practically off the table, put his leg over Phil's shoulder and the other around his waist, bringing Phil in, “Well, c’mon, I don't have all day.” 

Phil chuckled, but did as Clint said, both of them gasping. Clint loved the feeling of Phil's muscle under his fingertips, the wiry chest hair meeting his smooth chest, and the strong arms and hands holding him. 

“Whoever taught you how to be this flexible, deserves a damn fruit basket, sweet Jesus, Clint,” Phil praised, resting his hand on Clint's ankle.

“I taught myself, babe. By the way, when do you go back to work?”

“Next week,” Phil breathed, picking up his pace. 

“You should let me keep you at the shop. You were really so good with the customers and oh god, you need to wear jeans more. They look great on you. The way they fit over your ass, it drives me insane, and I can't be having those thoughts at work. I run a classy place. Never mind- Don't stop, fuck, don't stop,” Phil was grunting, moving his hips faster and faster, hitting Clint's prostate on every thrust, and Clint's eyes were rolling back into his head, a stream of moans falling from his mouth, “Uuh, Phil, oh god, you should not work at the shop. It would be s- oh, Phil, yes!” Clint cried, coming between their bellies and Phil following seconds later, both of them relaxing and putting their weight on the table. 

Phil kissed Clint's cheek and then rested his head on Clint's chest, “So, that's what me in jeans does to you?” His breathing coming out in puffs. 

“Pretty much, yeah,” Clint panted out, running his fingers up and down Phil's back. 

“Hmm,” Phil hummed in thought.

His fingers froze, “..What's that supposed to mean?” 

“Just thinking I might have to wear jeans more.” 

“I will not be responsible for my actions.”


	4. Chapter 4

They sat in comfortable silence, eating the stir fry they made together. Clint cut the vegetables without chopping off his fingers and Phil stood at the stove, Clint coming up behind him constantly to wrap his arms around Phil and kiss his cheek. Phil told him if he kept it up, they wouldn't be having dinner. That was fine with Clint, but his stomach thought otherwise. His stomach really had the worst timing. 

 

Now, they were sitting next to each other with their legs entwined, Phil's hand a comfortable weight on his knee. 

 

“So,” Phil started, “There's something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

 

Clint froze. 

 

This was it. Phil was going to break up with him. It was over. Phil was going to tell him he wasn't good enough that he found someone better, someone who made him happier and didn't mess up all the time. 

 

Or Clint did something wrong. Fuck, what did he do wrong? He couldn't think of anything. Clint didn't remember saying something that would upset his father or Trickshot. He didn't listen, he never listened. Why didn't he ever listen? He would surely be supporting bruises from his father by tomorrow. Why couldn't he do better? He did everything right in the routine, his form was good, and he hit every target. Maybe it wasn't though. Maybe he just thought he was doing great. He knew it. He stumbled, he hesitated, and he was off by an inch, maybe even more. He did awful. He could've done better. Trickshot would tell Swordsman and they were going to make sure he paid for it. 

 

He flinched and yanked himself away when he felt a hand on his shoulder, “Clint?” His head jerked to the voice, relaxing when he saw Phil's gentle smile, “It's OK. It's nothing bad.” 

 

Clint swallowed, trying to push away his memories, “What is it?” 

 

“My family is getting together next month, and I was wondering if you would want to go with me? They would really like to meet you, but if you don't want to go, it's fine,” Phil explained. Clint knew it wouldn't be fine. 

 

“Your family wants to meet me?” Clint said in disbelief. 

 

He wasn't worth bringing home to Phil's family. 

 

“My sister told me if I don't bring you home soon, she would come here and that wouldn't be good for either of us,” Phil chuckled fondly, “She’d probably interrogate both of us and demand to know why I haven't brought you home yet.” 

 

Clint dropped his gaze, looking down at his plate of vegetables and chicken, “I, um, I don't think that's a good idea. Me, meeting your family. I'm, uh, not ready for that yet.” 

 

It was a horrible lie, but Phil left it alone, saying, “OK, if you change your mind just let me know,” Phil squeezed his knee, “Hey, are you alright?” 

 

Clint nodded, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

 

Phil let it go, but something changed between them and Clint knew it was his fault. It was his fault they weren't saying good morning, weren't calling each other during lunch, weren't making dinner together, and they weren't facing each other when they got into bed. It felt like they were two strangers living together,and it was all Clint's fault. Clint should've done better when he was in the circus. He could've been better. If he had been better- if he had listened, he wouldn't be such a screw up. He would be OK with meeting Phil's family and maybe he would feel he deserves Phil, but no, he was a stupid, deaf kid who didn't listen to his father or Trickshot and Swordsman, and now his relationship was falling apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, Clint basically had a flashback and panic attack at the same time. It's supposed to be jumbled up. 
> 
> Kudos and comments give hugs to this poor man!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha talks to Clint with hints of a past relationship between them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short.

“Alright, spill. What's up with you?” Natasha said to him, while he changed out of his uniform and into jeans and a tee shirt. When he didn't answer, she continued, “Let me guess, trouble in paradise?” 

He stayed silent. 

“Do I need to kill him? I've never seen you like this.” 

“Like what?” Clint asked, putting his bow and the rest of his arrows away. 

“Like someone took away your favourite chew toy. You look like a sad puppy and it's really putting me off.” 

Clint lied down on the hotel bed, pulling his knees to his chest and curling in on himself, “I messed it up.” 

They stopped sleeping together, Clint slept on the couch and he made sure he was already in the shop before Phil even got up. They barely saw each other. When they did, they didn't speak or make eye contact, at least Clint didn't, but he stared when Phil wasn't looking. Phil looked tired and upset. Clint knew the latter was his fault. He should have said yes to meeting Phil's family. Maybe they would be alright. No, they wouldn't. Clint would have fucked up at some point. 

“Did you really mess up or are those assholes from your past saying you did?” 

“I'm not good enough for him, Nat,” Clint whispered, finally speaking what he thought out loud. It hurt more than he thought it would. 

He felt the bed dip behind him, Nat’s arm wrapping around his waist and her chin settling his neck. 

“...Why am I always the little spoon?” Clint asked her, winding their fingers together.

“Honey, we both know you're more pretty when you're receiving.” He could hear the smirk in her voice. 

Clint turned as much as he could, trying to give her a look saying, ‘leave it in the past.’ 

She sat up to kiss his cheek, “Clint,everyone messes up sometimes, but it won't be as monumental as you think it will be, and if Phil really loves you, he'll want to try to fix it. Besides, I don't think you fucked up. I think you're just telling yourself you did.” Her voice was sure and comforting. 

He felt slightly better, “Thanks, Nat.” 

“No problem, sweetie. I'll help you kill those fucktards when you find them and I'll kill them so slowly they'll wish they never hurt you,” her voice became cold enough to scare him, which wasn't something she could do easily to him. They had been friends for too long. 

“While I wait for them to resurface, what do I about Phil?” 

“Go home. Tell him you didn't mean to shut him out. Tell him why.”

The Black Widow came across Clint's path seven years ago, three years after he left the circus. They tiptoed around each other for the first two years because they didn't trust each other, but that changed when they worked together to escape Shield agents. They've practically been inseparable since. 

The last thing either of them wanted was to be captured by Shield. If Shield caught them, they would surely end up in prison for the rest of their lives. They couldn't have that. There people who needed to be taken care of, people who needed to be saved. The local authorities and governments weren't always enough. Plus, they really didn't want to live out the rest of their lives in a cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More hugs for Clint with kudos and comments ^·^


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint meets the family! Well, some of the family. More as the chapters go on. :-)

After Clint and Natasha took down a drug lord, who was selling children in Peru, Clint made his way home to put away (hide) his bow and arrows. Then he had to pack a bag to bring to Michigan, where Phil was visiting his family. They didn't say goodbye when Clint said he needed to go to Boston, but Phil did leave an address in case Clint changed his mind. 

When Clint pulled up to Phil's family’s house, he sat in the rental car for so long he started to feel like a creep. At least it wasn't the only house on the quiet street. 

He took a deep breath, grabbed his backpack, and got out of the car. He shoved his shaking hands in his jacket pockets, but then he realised he would have to use his hands to knock on the door. He’d rather not use his head, since he still had a slight headache from fighting the asshole who invaded his perch less than 24 hours ago. 

He wished Nat was there, but she never would because “I'd rather be back in the Red Room than in the presence of a federal agent.” She didn't care how blind the FBI was to their activities, she didn't trust them, not even local police. 

He swallowed and forced himself to raise a jittery hand to knock on the door, immediately jamming his hand back into his pocket. 

The door opened a few seconds later, revealing an older woman with graying brown hair, warm brown eyes and a smile resembling Phil's. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Hi, um, I'm Clint” he said nervously, “I'm not sure if-,” 

Her eyes brightened, “Clint! Of course, Phil has told us so much about you. Come in, come in.” The door was closing behind him before his mind could kept up to what was happening. 

Phil's parent’s house was homey. They've clearly lived there for years, but the house wasn't old enough to be the one Phil grew up in. 

“I'm Alison, Phil’s mom, but you can call me Alie or Alison. Hell, call me mom if you want.” She started taking Clint’s bag off his shoulders, “Let me take this.” She placed his bag on the stairs leading to another level of the house. “Phil can bring it up to his room when he gets home. Do you want anything to eat? We can watch a movie? I could give you a tour of the house? I could tell you embarrassing stories about Phil?” 

He laughed at the last option, “A movie sounds good.” 

“Great!” She smiled, “I'll make some popcorn and you take your shoes off, get comfortable.” She disappeared into the next room. 

Clint took his shoes off, leaving them on the mat by the door with several other pairs of shoes. The tv was on the wall, above the fireplace where years of photos sat. There was one of Phil's parents on their wedding day, one of two babies, a family portrait, a photo of two high school graduates, one of them being a young Phil and the other had to be his sister, and one more photo of twins as toddlers, but it wasn't Phil and his sister. It had to be Phil's niece and nephew. 

He turned his head when he felt he wasn't alone. Alie was standing there with a soft smile. 

“You have a beautiful family,” He told her.

“Maybe you'll officially be apart of it someday.” 

The sincerity in her statement- the idea of being a part of their family, of wearing a silver band matching Phil's, made warmth and love spread through him. 

Clint sat on the couch as Alie explained Phil was out with his sister and her kids, while she put a movie in.

Once Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was over, Alie announced she had to start dinner and Clint was going to help. She didn't give him a choice and he was alright with that. He would have offered to help anyway. Clint was comfortable with Alie. She was sweet and gentle, but she seemed like she wouldn't take shit from anyone, including her kids if they misbehaved. 

“I assume you enjoy cooking, since you own a bakery.” Alie said, getting out a pan for the rice. 

“I love it. Phil usually helps, especially when I have to bake for the shop.” 

“Phil helps?” She sounded surprised. 

“Is that weird?” 

“He always told me he hated cooking, but maybe you make it enjoyable for him.” 

Clint was going to tell her baking would sometimes ended in a food fight, but decided against it, plus the front door opened loudly, the presence of small children suddenly in the air. 

“Mom?” He heard Phil call out. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Whose-,” Phil stopped short of what he was going to say because he was in the kitchen looking at Clint with his mouth open in a slight surprise. 

“Clint.” he said in a small voice. 

He gave him a weak smile, “Hi, babe.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint sort of tells Phil what's wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HANUKKAH, HAPPY KWANZAA, AND HAPPY WHATEVER YOU CELEBRATE! 
> 
> I hope you have a fantastic day!

Dinner was awkward. 

Phil was sitting next to Clint. He didn't mind. He loved Clint, but they had hardly spoken in the past few weeks. There was no warning. Although, there was no warning to Clint shutting down.

Phil didn't know what was wrong and he couldn't ask because Clint wasn't talking to him. Every time they ended up in the same room together, Clint would leave and Phil would be left there wondering what the hell was going on in Clint's mind. 

He knew Clint was insecure, but Phil couldn't figure out what he said or did to make Clint shut down. Things were going great until Phil brought up Clint meeting his family. Phil realised that night Clint's insecurity issues went down to his family. Clint never talked about his family or much about his past. Phil was accepting about it. He didn't ask because he figured Clint would eventually tell him. Two years later and Clint hadn't said anything.   
Phil would often work later than he should or get carried away with paperwork and assignments, but working for Shield was no easy task and Nick liked to give him a lot of responsibility. Clint would call Phil, coaxing him into coming home because “Babe, the paperwork isn't going to get up and walk away.” When Clint called him the first time, Phil thought something was wrong because nobody had ever been so concerned or caring for him. Well, he did have his parents, but nobody outside of his family. 

“What about your family?” Phil heard his sister ask and his head shot up, glancing at Clint whose attention just became too interested in his empty plate. 

“Jill,” he said sort of sternly, remembering he wasn't at work dealing with baby agents, and shook his head. She gave him a questioning look and he smirked, “Are you going to interrogate my boyfriend the entire time we're here? Or can I spend some time with him?” 

Jill had been asking Clint question after question about his life, but Phil tuned most of it out. Jill was harmless, until she got to the family question. 

“Alright, alright. Go have ‘alone time’ with your boyfriend. Just keep the noise down. Virgin ears are present.” Jill said to him, and then continued to Clint, “Clinton, you are highly worthy of my brother Phillip. It was nice to finally meet you.” 

Clint smiled politely, “It was nice to meet you too.” 

They stood up and Clint followed Phil, who paused to grab Clint's backpack still sitting on the stairs. The short trip was silent, and the air between them was heavier than it had been at the dinner table. Phil closed his bedroom door behind him, setting Clint's bag on the floor next to his suitcase. 

He kept his back to Clint. He didn't know what to say or where to even start. The reason why Clint was there would be a good start, but it wasn't the most pressing question on his mind. 

“Why did you shut me out, Clint?” He turned around, finding Clint on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest. 

“I didn't mean to. I figured I did something wrong or I messed up and you didn't want me, but I pushed you away and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” Clint wouldn't meet his eyes and he was rambling.

He sat on the bed in front of Clint, resting a hand on his cheek and the other on Clint's side, trying to pull Clint into his arms, but he wouldn't move. 

“Clint,” his voice was as soft as it could be, “What happened?” 

Clint grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly and moving it so their entwined fingers brushed against his ear and hearing aid. Clint's wide green-blue eyes were frightened, and it couldn't have been at Phil because he wasn't looking at anything. He was somewhere else, like the night Phil asked if he would meet his family. 

Clint shook his head, crushing Phil's hand, “I can't,” his voice breaking.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” Phil managed to pull his shaking boyfriend into his arms. 

“You won't hurt me, will you?” Clint asked out of nowhere. 

“What?! No, Clint, you should know that.” Phil would never hurt Clint. He wouldn't hurt anybody, unless they hurt innocent people and were trying to take over the world. Or hurt someone he cared about. 

“I wasn't born deaf. My dad, he- He said I never listened. I guess I didn't. I was never good. I wasn't good enough. Why didn't I listen more? Why didn't I try harder? I could've done better, I could've-,”   
Phil took Clint's face in his hands, “Clint, you have to breathe.” Clint kept talking, his breathing becoming more laboured, his eyes darting around the room in panic. Phil didn't want to startled Clint, but he felt he had no choice, “Clint!” 

His heart broke at the fear and panic in Clint's usual playful eyes. He wanted to tell Clint nobody would ever hurt him again. Phil would make sure of that. He needed to calm Clint down first. 

“I'm sorry for shouting, but you need to breathe. Breathe with me,” he inhaled deeply and then let it go, keeping it up until Clint was doing it with him. He stopped when Clint was finally breathing normally. 

“Are you alright?” Phil asked after a couple of minutes of silence. 

“I think so.” 

Phil kissed his cheek gently, “Thank you for telling me, even though it was a little garbled.” Clint started to pull away, but Phil wouldn't let him. “I don't care about what happened in your past, which is why I never asked. When you didn't talk about it, I knew it couldn't have been good.”

“I'm sorry I-,” Clint started. 

“Don't, it's OK.” Phil told him. 

There was a pause, “I love you,” Clint said,squeezing Phil hard and moving his head to kiss Phil's lips.

“I love you too,” Phil said, a small smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I wanted to finish the last chapter before I posted anymore. This is officially finished! :D
> 
> Also, smut full steam ahead!

“My dad isn't going to bother you, is he? I can talk to him, if it will help.” Phil asked, running his fingers through Clint's hair. They had laid down, Clint's head resting on Phil's chest and his leg thrown over Phil's waist. 

“Was he in the army?” His own dad wasn't in the army, but he wasn't going to warm up to a hardass quickly. 

“He's a history teacher.”

“Ah, he's a nerd. I'll be fine.” 

Phil laughed and it was music to his ears. He really had missed Phil. He was glad Phil understood what he was saying because he didn't think he would have been able to spell it out. 

He felt better because Phil knew about most of his past, but he almost slipped up in his panicked state. He almost told Phil about the circus. If he had mentioned it, Phil would've asked more questions and he wasn't sure he could've lied. He might have told Phil everything.

He felt a kiss being pressed into his hair, “The next time you feel like you don't deserve something or like you aren't good enough, let me know and I can help you kick those thoughts in the ass,” Phil said to him, bringing him out of his 

“I can try.”

Next thing Clint saw was the ceiling and Phil being a comfortable weight on top of him, “You are worth everything, Clint, and you deserve the best.” Phil was so sincere and with the love in his eyes, it was hard not to believe him. 

Clint fisted Phil's shirt, yanking him down to kiss him and he kissed him hard, tangling his fingers in Phil's hair, crushing their lips together. Clint needed Phil closer and not only on a physical level. He slowed the kiss, undoing the buttons on Phil's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, and wrapping his legs around Phil's waist, which lined up their groins just right, making Clint gasp.

For some reason Phil thought his gasp was a bad reaction and he pulled away panting, “Wait.”

Clint tried chasing his lips, but Phil held himself away, “What's wrong?” 

“Are you sure you're up for doing this?” 

“It's been weeks, Phil. I'm pretty damn sure,” he said, surging up to kiss Phil again, but Phil pulled away. 

“I know it's been weeks, but you just had a panic attack and we are in my parents’ house.” 

“I'm alright. I just need you,” Clint told him seriously and Phil studied his face. He must of been satisfied with what he saw because Phil kissed him. 

It was Clint's turn to break away though,just so he could toss in a comment, “As for this being your parents’ house, well, kinky.” Phil laughed, bending down to bring their lips together. Clint felt Phil smile into the kiss, making Clint smile too. 

It didn't take long for their kiss to become heated. Their hands were everywhere, trying to pull each other's clothes off while keeping their mouths glued together. They realised that wasn't going to work and had to separate. They sat up, Clint immediately going for his shirt to get out of it, but he somehow got tangled in it. Phil had to help him take the shirt off, laughing while he did so. 

“Do you think you can manage your pants by yourself?” Phil asked with an amused expression, climbing off the bed. 

“Where are you going?” Clint was absolutely not worried Phil was leaving. 

“Don't worry,” He gave him a reassuring smile, “I'm just getting lube.” 

While Phil rummaged through his bag,Clint got out of his pants without incident, mumbling, “That shouldn't sound so innocent,” and then louder, “Wait, you brought lube to your parents house?” 

“No, you brought lube to my parents house,” Phil held up Clint's backpack and a bottle of lube. Oh, right, Clint put it in his bag before he left their apartment. Phil tossed the bottle on the bed, taking his pants off, and rejoining Clint. 

“I just wanted to be prepared,” Clint explained, letting his legs fall open so Phil could settle between them. 

“So, you weren't expecting this to happen?” Phil rocked his hips down into Clint's. 

Clint sucked in a breath, finding the bottle and waving it, “Do you want to just-?” 

He grabbed a pillow, shoving it under Clint's hips, and took the bottle from him, slicking up his fingers. Clint thought he was going to kiss him, but Phil only smirked, latching his mouth onto Clint's nipple and teasing his hole with his fingers.

“Shit,” Clint groaned, arching into Phil. 

“Shh,” Phil lifted his head, a smile tugging at his lips, “We need to keep the noise to a minimum.” He said, slipping his finger into Clint's body. Clint had to bite his lip, swallowing the moan in his throat, but Phil brought his mouth back to his chest, working his finger in and out.  
“You're doing this on purpose,” Clint tangled a hand in Phil's hair, keeping his head where it was. Phil knew his nipples were a little over sensitive, so of course, he felt the need to attack them when Clint was supposed to be quiet. Plus, Phil was sliding in another finger, brushing against Clint's prostate. 

He moaned, “Phil.” His hips thrusted up to meet Phil's, making him gasp, his breath ghosting across Clint's chest. Clint's hips bucked up again and Phil was kissing him. Then they were rocking against each other, Phil's fingers working in rhythm with their thrusts. His own fingers gripping the familiar body on top of him. Phil's fingers hit his prostate straight on, Phil swallowing his moan. 

“Phil, please, I need you,” he begged. 

Phil kissed him gently, pulling his fingers out, “Alright.” He grabbed the bottle of lube, slicking up his cock, and bent over Clint, pushing into his body. Clint's eyes fluttered shut, feeling full and even more at home, his legs locking around Phil's waist.

Phil took him slowly, with his arms wrapped around Clint's body, holding him close, their chests pressed together.

“I missed you so much, Phil,” he breathed into Phil's ear. 

“I missed you too,” Phil leaned down to kiss him, swallowing Clint's moans. 

Clint pulled his mouth away, “I'm really sorry Phil. I should have just told you from the beginning what was going on. I didn't mean to push you away. I'm so sorry.” 

“I told you, it's OK.” 

“You shouldn't forgive me so quickly.” 

“Why not? Because you don't think you deserve it?” Phil thrust his hips sharply, but returned to his lazy pace almost immediately. “I wasn't mad at you to begin with. I knew something was wrong. I wasn't going to break up with you for not telling me. I hoped you would eventually tell me.” 

“And if I hadn't?” Clint asked, a quiet moan escaping his mouth.

“I would have tried to get it out of you or I would've waited until you did tell me.” 

“Why would you wait for me? Why not find someone else to be happy with?” 

“Damnit, Clint,” Phil practically growled at him, which honestly just turned him on more. Phil thrusts became harder and deeper, “Why won't you believe me? I love you, Clint Barton. I am so in love with you I drive myself crazy. There's never going to be anyone else because you are it for me. I want to marry you and maybe have a family with you someday, but you aren't making it easy for me.” Phil panted out in frustration. 

Clint could only lay there, clinging to Phil. He meant every word he said. Clint could see the truth and love in his soft blue eyes. He took Phil's face in his hands and crushing their lips together. Clint wasn't as good as Phil at talking about his feeling. He was better at expressing them, so he kissed Phil like he would never be able to kiss him again, putting everything he's ever felt for Phil into it. Trying to tell Phil how much he wanted and would love to marry him, raise kids with him, leave his mercenary job and live a quiet life with Phil. 

Clint's orgasm caught him by surprise, gasping into Phil's mouth and kissing Phil lazily, feeling him shudder apart. Phil collapsed on top of him and they laid like that. Clint ran his fingers up and down Phil's spine. 

“So, you basically proposed.” Clint said breaking the silence. “Did you, um, mean to do that?” 

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Phil's family!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly had so much fun writing this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Phil ran his hand gently through Clint's dirty blond hair, watching his sleeping form instead of the news. Clint joined him not long after he sat down with a cup of coffee, rubbing his eye with his fist, mumbling something about Phil leaving bed. Clint had wedged himself between the couch and Phil's side, burying his face in Phil's stomach, winding his arms around his middle, and tangling their legs together. Phil took the blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over Clint's body. That was over an hour ago and they hadn't really moved since. 

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, glancing over to see his dad in his bathrobe. 

“Of course you're up,” his dad grumbled to Phil as he walked by the couch. “You're on vacation, you're supposed to sleep until noon.” 

“I'm not a teenager, dad.” 

“And you're not at work, so get the stick out of your ass.” 

His dad was usually telling him to have more fun, even when he was growing up, and he wasn't shy about it. Phil couldn't argue with him. He spent most of his days in high school studying to ensure he got the best grades, and he did. He was valedictorian at graduation. Everyone thought he was going to be a big shot lawyer or business man, but those thoughts never crossed his mind. He wanted to make a difference in the world, so he went to Ranger school where he met Nick, who offered him a job at Shield once he graduated. He constantly worked his ass off, but he loved his job. Plus, he had Clint to keep him from working too hard. 

“He looks like a giant puppy,” his dad commented, sitting in the chair across from him and taking a sip from the Darth Vader mug in his hands. 

Phil laughed, “He is.” 

“Ugh, the news? Where's the remote?” He started looking around, finding the remote on the coffee table and changing the channel to Phineas and Ferb. “You don't mind, do you, Mr. Spock? Never mind, you're making heart eyes at your sleeping boyfriend. Why couldn't I have normal kids who make heart eyes at Superman? Nooo, my kids-,” 

“Dad, just drink your coffee.” 

“When do I get to officially meet Sleeping Beauty?” 

“Uh, when he wakes up?” 

“At least he's still sleeping, like someone should be on vacation.” 

“So, why are you up?” 

His dad sighed, “Because it's part of my job to clean up the room for the summer, not my students, unfortunately.” 

“How do your students even deal with you in the morning?” 

“I threaten to ruin their GPA if they piss me off, but usually the underclassmen are terrified of me by the time I get them, so they're easy to handle.” 

“Yeah, because you tell the seniors to tell their younger siblings that you're a bitchy asshole, and they spread the rumour around, only to learn you're a caring nerd, who’s occasionally an asshole.” 

“And you're my favourite child because you wouldn't dare tell anyone that. Your sister, though, she can be asshole, minus the nerd.” 

Phil laughed, “Dad!” 

The sound of his laughing may not have woken Clint up, but the shaking of his body from the laughter caused Clint to stir. Phil rubbed his back, trying to sooth him back to sleep, but Clint picked his head up. His cheek had indents from Phil's wrinkled tee shirt, his hair was sticking up in every direction, and his eyes were hazy with sleep. 

Phil smiled down at him, “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” he pulled himself up, stretching his neck for a kiss, disappointment filling his features when he only received a peck on the lips. Phil cocked his to the side, motioning to his dad. 

“You guys are doing that weird talking without speaking thing, aren't you?” His dad interrupted them. Clint gave Phil a questioning look. He saw Phil's dad, but he probably couldn't see his lips. 

Phil signed to him what his dad said and Clint smiled fondly. 

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Coulson,” Clint said to his dad as he sat up. 

“Oh god, call me Harry. I don't need my son’s boyfriend calling me Mr. Coulson.” 

“Where'd you put your ears?” Phil asked Clint, and his dad gave him the ‘are you fucking serious’ look. 

“Son, his ears are attached to his head.” 

“I meant his hearing aids.” 

His dad’s mouth dropped in surprised, “Holy shit, I'm a fucking asshole. I'm so sorry, Clint.” He turned to Phil, “Oh my god, he can't hear me. What the fuck am I doing trying to talk to him with my mouth? He can't even hear me! I am so sorry, Clint!” He yelled a little when he apologised the second time, but Clint was laughing. “Phil, why is he laughing? Is he laughing at how stupid I am?” 

“I- I can… Read your lips,” Clint explained through puffs of laughter. 

His dad looked at him and pointed at Clint, “I take it back, he's the asshole.” 

“Silly muggle,” Clint muttered under his breath. 

His dad gasped, “Phil, you better marry this boy because if you don't, I will disown you and adopt Clint.” 

Phil knew his dad was only half joking. He wanted to tell his dad he had nothing to worry about, but he kept quiet. Clint had said OK after Phil confirmed he meant every word he said. Phil had someday, he hadn't exactly proposed, although it was nice to know when he did ask, Clint wouldn't turn him down. They knew they were it for each other, but they weren't ready to get married. 

Phil needed to tell Clint he was Shield. He needed to explain the nature of his real job before he dragged Clint into it's dangers. Sure, Clint worked out, but that didn't mean he knew how to fight or use a weapon. Phil needed to protect Clint and part of that was telling him the truth.Clint had to find out from Phil, not someone who would hurt him to get to Phil. 

*****

Phil was sitting at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop answering the emails he'd been ignoring since he got to his parents’ house. He wanted a few days to relax without an interruption from Shield, so he turned his phone off and kept his laptop in his suitcase. He didn't want to ignore Shield for long because if he did, Nick would show up with his eye patch and assassin style clothing, most likely giving his mother a heart attack. 

Most of his emails were from May, complaining about the incredibly stupid agents she had to work with while Phil was on vacation and how he needed to come back as soon as possible or she would do unspeakable things to her temporary team. Phil assured her he would be back next week. He also had a handful of late mission reports and an email from Maria asking for his secret of dealing with Nick at all hours of the day. 

He was about to check the text he heard pop up on his work phone, but Clint burst through the sliding door, soaking wet and breathing hard, closing the door just as two water balloons hit the glass. 

“Uh, what's going on?” Phil asked. 

“Your darling niece and nephew may have dumped water on me and your dad and we may or may not have retaliated.” 

“So why are you dripping all over my mom's floor?” 

Clint looked down and smiled sheepishly, “Oops, I’ll-,” 

“Clint! Run, they went around the front!” Phil heard his dad yell from the front of the house. Phil took his laptop of the table so it was out of the potential line of fire.

“You two are literally children.” Phil commented while Clint quickly filled and tied off water balloons. 

Annie and Andy ran into the kitchen aiming for Clint, but he ducked and threw his balloons at them, hitting them in the shoulder and leg. 

His dad finally joined them, looking at the water on the floor, “Grandma is going to be pissed.” 

“You started it, Grandpa!” Andy accused. 

His dad put his hands on his hips, “I did not, you little-,” 

“I rather not face the wrath of Alie, so where can I find a mop?” Clint asked, wringing out his tee shirt in the sink. 

“I agree with Clint! Grandma is going to be soooo upset with us!” Her eyes widened in horror, “What if we don't get dinner?!” She grabbed Clint’s arm, “C’mon, we need to find the mop!”

His dad and Andy looked at him, “I'm staying out of this.” 

With that said, both of their shoulders slumped and they went off to hopefully find towels, so Annie and Clint didn't have to clean everything up. 

Phil sighed, unlocking his phone to check the text message he got. It was from Nick, his back stiffening as he read the text. 

‘We have information on Black Widow’s next target.’


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Shit is about to go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Clint sat cross legged on the roof in Budapest, his bow lying next to him and his attention focused on Nat. She called him the night he got back from Phil's parents’ house. He hated leaving Phil again, but Nat needed his help. He couldn't say no. He wasn't sure if he could ever say no to her. He knew if he retired his bow and Nat needed his help, he would drop everything. He couldn't let her take jobs on her own. What if she got hurt? What if someone set her up? Who would have her back? 

He couldn't keep lying to Phil. It was becoming more and more difficult to come up with excuses as to why he had to leave the state, when he was actually leaving the country. Phil seemed to understand and didn't question him, but what if he did start to question him? What would he do then? They were in it for the long haul, Phil would have to notice something was going on. He wasn't a stupid man. Clint was surprised Phil wasn't already suspicious, unless he was and hadn't said anything. Or maybe he hadn't noticed because his nose was constantly buried in paperwork. Clint couldn't risk it. He needed to figure something out. 

“Hawkeye? Are you falling asleep on me?” He heard Nat say over the burner phone. 

“Sorry, zoned out a little.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“I don't know, but I can shove it aside because I see your victim coming towards you.” 

“Is it necessary to call him that?”

“I've been on the other side of your bite, victim is accurate.” Clint stood, putting his bow and arrow into position, keeping his eyes on the target. 

Nat told him the man was apart of the Black Widow program. He made Nat into what she was, along with countless other girls. He kept looking behind him, like he knew someone was watching his every move. There was nobody following or watching him, as far as Clint could tell. 

Then the glint of a sniper rifle in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked over to his left, finding the sniper easily because they were out on an open roof.

“Widow, I have a sniper a street over.” 

“Shoot them.” 

He did, aiming for the palm of the sniper’s hand. Clint ducked down behind the building next to him, carefully peeking his head out to see the sniper pulling the arrow out of his palm and speaking into his wrist, looking around for where the arrow came from. 

He got another arrow ready, about to stand to shoot the other hand when he saw two more snipers setting up. He shot both of them through the hand and shoulder. 

He looked around, “Something isn't right. I just took out two more. Why would this guy have three snipers?” 

“He wouldn't. Where is he?” 

“Maybe two hundred feet from you. Widow, we need to get out of here.” He started to move. 

“You know where to meet me. Just go. I need to finish him.” There was too much determination in her voice. He couldn't stop her and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave her. 

“Damnit, Nat.” He grumbled to himself, following her along the roofs. 

When she caught the man’s attention, he hesitated, but followed her away, along with a large group of people, who Clint assumed were agents. 

“Widow, it's a set up! Do what you have to and get the fuck out of there!” He said urgently, running to catch up with her, shooting agents legs to take them down. 

“Shit! Meet me at the house tomorrow morning, I'm going dark.” 

“Please, be careful.” He tossed his phone off the roof and turned around to head in the direction he came in to avoid the agents, but they were coming his way too. He jumped onto the building below him, trying to quickly and safely make it down to the street. It wasn't easy with his bow, but he managed. He was going to have to stash his bow somewhere and come back for it.

Once his feet were on the ground, he heard the click of a gun and a stern voice start to say, “Shield, drop-,” but was cut short by Clint turning his bow and arrow on the man. 

Clint froze, his mouth dropping in surprise and his blood running cold, “Phil?!”

Surprise was written all over Phil's face, “You-,” he started weakly, bringing his gun down, “Clint? You're Hawkeye?” 

Phil was Shield.

Clint ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, sorry for the cliffhanger.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves for some feels.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is or do I have to get May to beat it out of you?” Nick asked. 

Phil was laying on the couch in Nick’s office with his arm over his eyes, “I need you to be my friend right now.” 

“You could've started with that, instead of making me sit here in anticipation for fifteen minutes.” 

“Clint is Hawkeye.” 

“Your boyfriend Clint?” Nick asked with an amused voice. Phil nodded and Nick laughed. 

“I'm glad you find this funny.” 

“Hell yeah I do.” Nick said through the laughter. 

When his team told him Hawkeye was on the ground, Phil took off at a run, expecting to catch the mystery man with a bow and arrow. He did not expect Clint to be that mystery man. Clint was Hawkeye. Everytime he left home, he was Hawkeye. He never told Phil, never even slipped up to hint at it. Why didn't Clint tell him? He thought they had gotten closer when they were at his parents’. He wasn't angry or upset. Phil lied about his job too, but it wasn't too far from the truth. He lied to protect Clint from the dangers of his job. He didn't want someone to come after Clint because of him. 

He needed to talk to Clint, but he hadn't come home yet and it had been almost a week. It was unsettling, waking up to Clint not being there. He missed Clint waking him with a cup of coffee and soft kisses being placed on his face. Clint calling him to make sure he didn't work himself to death. Clint making him lunch and leaving a short note attached to a container in his lunch box. 

If Clint didn't come home, he would find him. He had to. 

“You both lied about something.” Nick snickered. 

“Yes, I know,” Phil stood, “Thank you for all your help.” He said sarcastically, making his way to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Nick asked in his Agent Fury voice. 

“Home.” 

***** 

When Clint walked through the apartment door, he immediately went for the bedroom, grabbing a suitcase to start packing quickly. He didn't know how long it was going to take or how long he needed to be gone, but he needed to go as soon as possible. He shoved whatever he grabbed into the suitcase, probably stuffing some of Phil's things in there too. He got his hearing aid batteries out of the night stand and put them in his pockets.He had everything else at the safehouse, including his dead hearing aids. He just needed to get cash, another bow and more arrows, which were in a backpack in the floor under the bed. 

Clint moved the bed out of the way, prying the floor board up and digging his go bag up. He put the board and the bed back, not expecting Phil to be standing in the doorway with his eyes on Clint's suitcase. 

“You're home, but you're not staying.” He read Phil's lips. 

Clint pulled the backpack onto his shoulders with a shrug, “I have to go.” 

“Clint, we need to talk.” 

“I don't have my ears.” 

Phil looked at him blankly, “I know ASL.” 

“I don't have time for this, Phil. I need to leave.” He didn't like being so cold towards Phil, but he had to get out of there. He grabbed his suitcase off the bed, walking back to the front door, turning to see if Phil was following him. He was.

“So we're done, just like that?” Phil looked mad and hurt. 

Clint shifted on his feet, “If that's what you want.” 

“It's not. If that's not what you want, why are you leaving?” 

“There’s something I have to take care of.” 

There was a pause, before Phil asked, “Is there anyway I can help?” 

“I need to take care of it myself.” 

“Along with Black Widow? You two don't have to do it alone. Let me help you, Clint.” 

Clint shook his head, “No.” 

“Why won't you let me help you?!” He was sure Phil was yelling. 

“Because I can't lose you to these people! If they find out Shield is onto them, they will destroy it! I'm trying to protect you.” 

“I can take care of myself.” Phil moved to close the gap between them. 

Clint gave him a small smile, “I don't doubt that.” 

“Then let me help.” Phil was in front of him. 

“They're not after you, stay out of it, please,”Clint begged, “You're everything to me, if someone came after you because of me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. My enemies will go after my family, Shield’s enemies will go after Shield agents. We've taken down organisations before, we can do it again.” 

“Will you come home?” 

“I hope so.”

“I was looking for a definite yes.” 

Clint set his suitcase on the floor, grabbed the lapels of Phil's suit, yanking him in for a kiss and kissing with everything he had. He needed to remember the feel of Phil's lips on his own, the taste of his mouth. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead against Phil's, fisting the suit jacket in his hands, trying to memorise every detail of Phil's pale blue eyes. 

His eyes became watery with tears, “I wish I could hear your voice.” He left out ‘one last time.’ 

He kissed Phil one more time and then picked up his suitcase, walking away from his family.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

“Did you find him yet?” Clint asked impatiently from his perch in a tree. 

“I've been in here for literally five minutes,” Natasha said flatly, “Don't get your panties in a twist.” 

“I'm sorry I'm concerned about the super Nazis looking for our heads on a platter. What are they going to do when we steal their favourite toy?” 

“Probably look for our entire bodies on platters,” a male voice, James, said. 

“Winter Ass, how's it going man?!” Clint joked cheerfully. 

“Oh, you know, brainwashing and torture, always leaves a guy feeling swell. How about you, Hawk-tits?” 

“Left my heart in D.C., but we can catch up later after that building is in flames,” Clint suggested. 

The man Nat took down wasn't only working for the Black Widow program. He was also a Hydra agent. The snipers were Hydra, along with the agents following Nat. They still didn't know how Shield found them, but they had to lay low until Hydra was off their back. 

They contacted the only other person they trusted, James Barnes. Nat knew him from the Red Room. He helped her escape and when Clint came along, he helped Nat get James out. They didn't know he was Captain America’s dead best friend or that Hydra was still kicking until they got somewhere safe and made sure they weren't followed. When James never got back to them, they knew something was wrong. He always answered them, even if he was on a mission, slowly picking off Hydra agent. Tasha and Clint figured Hydra caught up with James. They had been all over Europe looking for James in Hydra bases. When they found nothing, they torched the building. 

Finally, they found him in Russia, of course. 

“Alright, Hawkeye, do it.” He heard James say from somewhere at the foot of the tree. 

He let the exploding arrows fly and watched the building go up, “Thank god, I'm freezing my ass off up here.” 

“C’mon down, I'll warm it up for you.” James teased. 

“Aaw, baby, you're so good to me.” Clint said, making his way to the ground.

James caught him so he wouldn't have to shimmy down the rest of the way. 

“How'd it feel falling for me?” James asked smoothly with a bright smile that didn't reach his grey blue eyes. 

“Magical,” Clint said, batting his eyes as James settled him on his feet. 

“Do you two need a room?” Nat asked, walking by them. 

James and Clint shared a look, saying, “Nah,” at the same time. 

Clint could practically feel her rolling her eyes. 

*****

Phil was in a conference room, pouring over satellite photos of multiple burned down building. 

Despite Clint telling him to stay out of it, he couldn't. Not when Clint was out there risking his life for who-knows-what. He didn't say where he was going or what he was doing, but judging by the photos spread out on the table, he was doing something dangerous and Phil was in an office building. 

He was having a hard time figuring out what exactly Clint and the Black Widow were up too. Why were they going around setting buildings on fire? He knew Clint, there had to be a reason. 

“Still nothing?” 

Phil looked up quickly, cracking his neck with the movement. 

It was Maria. 

“Still nothing,” Phil confirmed. 

Phil told her he was trying to bring Hawkeye in, but couldn't find him since he was running around all over Europe taking buildings down. He told Maria everything he could, without telling her who Hawkeye really was. He trusted Maria with his life, but she would really want to bring Hawkeye in. 

“Maybe this will help,” she put a file on the table. 

He picked it up, looking it over with great curiosity. He glanced up at Maria. What he was reading couldn't be true. If the buildings really did belong to the name in the file, Clint was fucked and so was Shield. 

“Brock Rumlow? Are you shitting me?” Phil asked, his voice hard.

Rumlow used to be a Shield agent, but they locked him up because he went off the deep end into crazy land. The psychiatrist assigned to him said Rumlow was talking about Hydra coming back to ruin Shield and “fix" the world. They let him go two years later because he stopped talking about Hydra. If these buildings were really his, it means they didn't take his threats seriously and they shouldn't have let him go.

Phil hoped he was wrong and he was just jumping to conclusions, but something told him he wasn't. What else would Rumlow being using a dozen large buildings in Europe for?

“Did you know about this?” Phil asked at her unfazed expression.

“Fury told me-,” She started. 

“Damnit!” He shouted, stocking out of the room and making his way to Nick’s office. 

Nick told him Rumlow was a Hydra agent, trying to get information out of Shield. Rumlow never said he was Hydra, but Nick said had strong reasons to believe he was Hydra. Nick dug around and found out Hydra never went away. They were just hiding until they felt they were ready to make themselves known to the world once again, and it seemed like they were about to come back into existence.

After Phil yelled at Nick, he narrowed down the buildings Clint and Black Widow hadn't gotten their hands on yet. There were only two left. He didn't know how many agents Hydra had, but if Clint and Widow were destroying their buildings, they had to be destroying their paperwork and experiments, leaving them with nothing. 

Phil and a large number of Shield agents were outside of Copenhagen, Denmark. Him and his team were ready to leave within five minutes of figuring out Clint and Widow were in Denmark. He had agents hidden around the building, but he was a mile out with his tech team watching the video in a rented office space. 

He watched Widow come onto the screen, her back towards his agents. It must have been some sort of instinct because they never caught her face on camera. Clint was behind her, wearing sunglasses and a hood on his head. His bow was drawn, ready for a fight. 

“Remember, do not engage. You are there for surveillance only, unless I tell you otherwise.” He told his team sternly, getting a chorus reply of ‘yes, sir.’ 

Another man with a mask over his face came into the picture, stalking ahead of Clint and Widow. They obviously knew him because they didn't turn their weapons on him. 

“Sir, the new guy seems to have a metal arm.” One of his agents informed him. 

“Do we know who he is?” Phil asked his tech team. 

“On it, sir.”

The three of them made their way into the building. Phil didn't have agents or cameras inside. They would have been made and possibly injured. They didn't know what or who was inside, and it was killing Phil because he could only stand there and watch. If he sent his agents in, they could be killed or Clint could be because if this was a Hydra base, they could accuse the three of working for Shield. 

“There's gunfire, sir.” 

“Stay where you are,” he told them. To his tech team, “Do we know who the third one is?” 

“No, sir.” 

Clint and Widow knew the man, but what if he betrayed them? Phil wouldn't know because he doesn't have eyes on the inside and he wouldn't be able to warn Clint because he wasn't working for Shield. He could only send agents in and that wouldn't grantee Clint's safety either. He had to trust Clint to know what he was getting himself into, but missions can go wrong. He couldn't trust Hydra to not hurt Clint, and he didn't know if he could trust Black Widow or the man with the mask to have Clint’s back. 

“Gunfire has ceased.” 

The next thing he saw was the building's windows blow out, harsh flames consuming the outside of the building. 

This wasn't right. He didn't see anyone come out. Why would they blow up the building while they were still inside? Maybe he just missed Clint coming out? No, he hadn't taken his eyes off the screen. Maybe they left through the back? Did this building have a back? 

“Did anyone see them leave?” Phil asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

“No, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, that happened. Please don't get mad at me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of smut

Phil trudged up the stairs numbly, dreading the empty apartment in front of him. He opened the door, leaning against it and closing it with his back. He slid down the door, putting his face in his hands and let the tears spill over his cheeks. 

His world had shattered. Clint became a permanent fixture in his life and his heart, and he was just gone. A piece of him was missing and nothing could replace the Clint-like hole that was suddenly there. 

They investigated the building and found nothing. Why hadn't Clint gotten out? He wouldn't have gone in blind. Maybe they were set up and realised too late? Maybe they didn't realise at all. No, they would have. They were assassins and a mercenary, they worked on their own, they had to have noticed something was wrong. They were supposed to notice those things! 

The floor creaked and he was on his feet instantly, his gun drawn. Nobody was in the living room or the kitchen. He carefully turned to the bedroom, finding Clint folding laundry on their bed. 

He sucked in air, finally feeling like he was able to breathe, “Clint?” 

Clint turned, smiling brightly at him. He put his gun down and pulled Clint into his arms, kissing him with a force that made him stumble back, but quickly regaining his footing and returning the heat of the kiss.   
*****

They got home earlier that morning, sitting on the couch to take a deep, relaxing breath, and ended up falling asleep on each other. He was woken up by James, saying there wasn't much in the fridge besides take out boxes. His heart lurched. Take out boxes meant Phil wasn't taking care of himself. He sent James and Nat out to get groceries, once Nat woke up and had her cup of tea. Clint said he would do laundry while they were gone, which got him a kiss on the cheek and “yes, darling” from James. 

When he heard the door open, he thought he was going to see Nat and James carrying the entire store, but he saw Phil instead.

Clint smiled at him, but his smile faltered when he saw Phil's gun pointed at the floor and his tear stained cheeks. He put his gun on the bureau, and suddenly Clint had his arms full of Phil. Before he could ask what was wrong, Phil's mouth was on his urgently, his hand pulling at the hairs on the back of Clint's neck, sending a shiver up Clint's spine and making him lose his balance. He could only melt into Phil.

Phil pushed him back until the back of his knees hit the bed, Phil falling with him and their mouths still moving against each other hotly, their hands grabbing clothes and trying to pull them off without separating. They manoeuvred carefully, managing to get Clint out of his sweatpants without breaking apart. 

Clint let out a frustrated noise, becoming more and more desperate to have Phil inside him after leaving him and having no contact with him for endless months. Phil was above him now, swallowing the needy sounds trying to escape his throat. He felt Phil's hands everywhere, one minute they were pushing his t-shirt up his torso, the next he felt cool, slick fingers at his entrance. 

“Please,” he gasped, and then moaned as Phil gave him what he needed, his back arching into the body on top of him. Phil was taking his time, going slow and savouring the way Clint felt beneath him, but Clint needed him to pick up the pace. Or at least be in less clothing. 

Clint captured Phil's mouth with his again, undoing the rest of his tie and tossing it somewhere on the floor. He yanked Phil's tucked in shirt out of his pants, unbuttoning the shirt with shaky fingers, trying to get rid of the offending clothing so he could have Phil's skin under his fingertips. 

Once he felt the familiar skin and wiry chest hair against his own skin, he sighed into Phil's mouth and relaxed into his touch, just as Phil added a second finger. He squeezed Phil's sides, trying to bring him closer, but couldn't. 

“Please, Phil,” was all he could get out, before Phil brushed his fingers teasingly across his prostate and he thrust his hips up, seeking more pleasure and finding none. He went for Phil's suit pants, undoing the belt and zipper, shoving his hand inside, and gripped his hard cock. 

Phil rocked his hips into Clint's fist, groaning out, “Clint,” and leaned down to kiss him. 

“I need- please,” Clint begged, and Phil listened, pulling his fingers out, and tossing his suit jacket to the floor, not bothering to take anything else off. He placed his hands on Clint's hips, guiding him onto his cock and not stopping until he was fully inside him. 

Clint moaned at the feeling of Phil stretching him out, nodding his head for Phil to move. He wanted the burn of the stretch, he wanted to feel Phil inside him for days after. He wrapped his legs around Phil's waist and held onto Phil's shoulders, as he set a slow, rough pace. 

Clint could only hold onto Phil tightly. He was content lying under Phil and having him take Clint. He could only hear the thumping of his heart, his moans, and the slap of their skin. Nothing else mattered but them. Nothing else needed to matter. They had each other and they could finally have the life Clint wanted them to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a part in this where Phil's thought repeat, but it's supposed to be that way. :-) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Clint had fallen asleep in his usual position, lying on top of Phil and snoring softly in his ear. He was a solid, pleasant weight. Phil stretched his arm to grab the comforter off the floor and bring it around them. Clint looked calm, like he hadn't been taking down an evil organisation for the past eight months, like nothing could harm him.

Phil wondered how Clint slept while he was going country to country, city to city, running from Shield and Hyrda. Did he have to look over his shoulder every corner he turned? Every building he walked into? Did they take turns sleeping? How much did they eat? Were they taking care of themselves as best as they could? Phil tried to tell himself it didn't matter, but it did. He never knew where Clint was or what he was doing until they were almost finished taking out the Hydra bases. Phil constantly worried about him. A phone call, a text, an email, anything would have been better than the silence he got.

Phil was more than happy to see Clint alive and well, but he was angry with him too. Why couldn't he take five minutes to tell Phil he was alive? Or even what their plan was? Phil hoped Clint didn't give him a bullshit answer about Phil possibly alerting Shield. Clint meant more to Phil than Shield ever would. He loved his job, but Clint had his heart. Phil wanted to be furious with Clint, yet he couldn't bring himself to.

Clint started to stir and rolled off of Phil to lie on his side, putting his back to Phil. Clint probably wanted Phil to come up behind him, press his chest into Clint’s back, and wrap his arms around Clint. Phil wanted to, he really did, but Clint kept him in the dark. Phil didn't know if Clint was alive or dead. He trusted Clint with a bow. He knew what Hawkeye could do and how efficiently he could do it. It was Hydra he didn't trust.

Now, it was like Clint thought they could go back to normal. Phil couldn't just pretend that Clint didn't hurt him. They needed to talk about it. They lied to each other. There were things they hadn't told each other because they hid a part of their past. Phil had a feeling there was a lot more to Clint’s life that he had been keeping to himself.

Clint's back was still facing him, expecting Phil to come up behind him like Clint hadn't been away from home for endless months, and Phil hadn't been waiting for a call from someone telling him they identified Clint's body. There he was though, wanting Phil to come to him after he wouldn't come to Phil.

Phil punched his arm to get his attention. Clint wasn't expecting it and flailed, falling to the floor with a thump.

“I'm surprised you didn't do that sooner.” He must have seen Phil's watery eyes because he got back on the bed quickly, settling in Phil's lap.

“You should have told me. I didn't know if you were alive or dead, Clint,” Phil choked out.

Clint's arms tightened around Phil's shoulders, “I'm so sorry. I thought keeping you out of it would make things easier on Shield. It was our problem.”

“You thought wrong. We could have helped. I wouldn't have brought you in.”

“I'm sorry I hurt you, Phil,” Clint told him and pressed his lips to Phil's for a gentle kiss. Their kisses turned into soft touches, Clint holding Phil close as their bodies got reacquainted again.

Phil broke apart, “You know we still need to talk, right?”

Clint nodded, “I know,” and then his lips were on Phil's, brushing their mouths together over and over.

“Are you two done fucking? I love Clint and everything, but I don't- Well, I do actually, but I get he's taken. Ow! Damnit, Nat, what the hell?!”

Phil pulled away, “Who's that?”

Clint shrugged, “Just James and Natasha, ignore them,” he said, sealing his lips over Phil's again. Well, he tried to, but Phil was already pushing Clint off of him to put clothes on.

Phil was greeted by a woman with shoulder length red hair, who looked like she could kill someone with just her pinkie finger, and a man with shaggy brown hair and a scruffy beard, who had haunted eyes. They were both carrying two reusable grocery bags, filled to the top.

The woman was the first to break the silence, “You must be Phil. We've heard a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Phil told their guests.

The man set the bags down, out stretching his hand, “James, formerly known as the Winter Soldier, and currently hoping you'll help me retire in the near future.”

Phil shook his hand, glancing at Clint again, “Now, you want my help.”

Clint stood between James and the woman, “Everyone thinks we're gone for good, might as well have a Shield agent help us hide, do it right.”

Phil shook James’s hand, trying to remember where he had seen him before, “I feel like I've seen you somewhere, James.”

James shrugged, “I just have one of those faces.”

The woman rolled her eyes, sticking out her hand, “Natasha Romanov, Black Widow, looking for a job where I don't have to work for the bad guys.”

Phil shook her hand, “I'm sure we'll be able to work something out.” He respected her already, just in the way she carried herself. Confident and lethal, but underneath, terrified in what might happen to her for turning herself into Shield. “Ms. Romanov, you will be welcomed into Shield with a clean slate. You have nothing to worry about,” he said, trying to reassure her.

She gave him a spectacle look, “Don't say something you don't mean.”

“Never. I know the Director of Shield personally, but I will make sure you have a fair and equal chance to prove yourself.”

“Thank you,” he saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

“Alright, can we eat now? I'm hungry!” Clint complained, starting dig through the grocery bags.

“You're always hungry,” Natasha muttered, picking up the other two bags to bring them to the kitchen. Clint followed her, thankfully taking the bags he was digging through.

“What did you say your last name was?” Phil asked James.

“Um, Smith,” James told him.

Phil nodded, “Right.”

Phil couldn't shake the feeling that he knew James. He couldn't remember where he had seen him though. It wasn't from the coffee shop or his time with the Rangers because James had to be more than ten years younger than him. Maybe from work? No, that wasn't it either. He would remember a recruit with a metal arm. How did someone even end up with a metal arm? James called himself the Winter Soldier. Maybe he lost his arm due to a roadside bomb. Phil watched James as he walked over to the couch and then sat down, looking around the apartment. Phil realised he was searching for exits and how he sat on the part of the couch that was against the wall, not the window. He was actually a soldier. The haunted look in his eyes, he probably tried to hide away, wasn't just from how he became this Winter Soldier, it was from actual combat, seeing and doing things he never thought would happen to him. He seemed so young, but his eyes and tired expression told another story.

Shield didn't usually work with the military, so where the hell had be seen this guy?

“Uh, Phil,” Clint said, getting his attention, “You may not want to stare at him like that. He may get the wrong idea.”

James chuckled and winked, “Too late.”

James’s smile brightened his eyes and lit up his face. He looked younger, the darkness leaving his eyes and the tension in his body draining away. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five.

“Hey, keep your paws to yourself,” Clint told James in a joking tone, causing James to laugh again and hold his hands up in mock surrender.

_Suddenly, Phil was ten in his dad's office, flipping through the books on the shelf, while his dad sat at his desk grading papers. He took another book down, opening it towards the end, and getting met with a photo of a man in a red and blue costume with a white star on his chest. The man looked strong, confident, like nobody would dare challenge him. He brought the book to his dad._

_“Dad, who is this?”_

_His dad set his papers away, taking the book from Phil's hands and picking Phil up to set him on his knee._

_“This was Captain Steven Rogers, or as a lot of people called him, Captain America. He believed in taking down the bully and lifting up the bullied. The men he fought with said he was a good man.”_

_“He sounds cool! What happened to him?”_

_“He died, making sure the future of our world would be safe.”_

_“Oh,” Phil said sadly._

_The picture on the other page caught his attention. It was a black and white photo of a soldier in uniform, his hat tilted to the side, bright eyes, and a playful smile forming on his lips._

_Phil pointed at him, “Who was this?”_

_“He was Captain America’s best friend, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky Barnes.”_

Phil's jaw dropped and he stumbled back.

“Phil?” Clint was right next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

He looked at James- Bucky, “Holy shit, you're Bucky Barnes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. 
> 
> It's done. 
> 
> Finished!

Phil was pacing, running his hands through his hair, “I can't believe this. My boyfriend is alive, Black Widow wants to turn herself in, and Bucky Barnes is sitting on my couch. Just a normal Tuesday afternoon.”

He stopped.

Bucky Barnes was alive, and he didn't look older than thirty.

Phil brought his attention to the man on the couch, “How are you alive?”

James patted the seat next to him, “I think you should sit. It's a long story and you're making me uncomfortable.”

Phil gave him an apologetic smile, and sat next to him. His inner, younger self was screaming with excitement because Bucky Barnes was _right there_. His inner, current self was doing the same, and more contained since the situation was fucking weird. His job was weird, but people weren't coming back from the dead.

James told him how Zola gave him a version of Captain America's serum, when his unit was captured and before he knew _Steve_ was the famous Captain America. He got sidetracked by telling Phil about Steve after he had gotten the serum. James said Steve was the same, for the most part. Steve was a little more confident because he couldn't easily be taken down, but he was still uncomfortable in his new and improved body. He wasn't used to it and he feared people only saw Captain America, not Steve Rogers.

 James said with a fond smile, “I told him he would always be that punk, too stupid to run from a fight.”

The following day, he fell off the train, losing his arm to the snowy, icy mountains. Hydra found him before he bled out. He recalled the unbearable pain of having the metal arm attached to his nervous system, how he felt like an internal fire was going to consume him, and that would be how he died. James said he wished he had because it was a picnic, compared to having his mind scrambled inside out and turned against him. He knew there was no one coming for him, and he couldn't fight them. They put words in his mind to make him obey. They forced him to submit and molded him into an unbeatable, unbreakable machine.

They didn't always wipe his memories. When they did, he would do his best to suppress the headaches. When they didn't, he would do his best to remember everything they had made him forget. He always remembered a blond boy with bright, sky blue eyes, a playful glint ever present, and fireworks exploding above him as the boy looked on in delight.

Phil realised James was in love with Steve Rogers, before and after the serum. His pale blue eyes lit up just mentioning Steve, saying his name with a softness to relax his hardened features.

Phil kept it to himself.

James explained how he escaped Hydra, by making his handlers believe his mind didn't need to be wiped. He had been fooling them for months, acting the way he knew he would if they had taken his memories. He was glad they sedated him when they put him in the cryo chamber. He got away on a mission. Hydra must have been pissed. He didn't kill the target and their favourite toy got a mind of it's own.

James said he was on his on his own for two years, before he reconnected with Nat and then meeting Clint. They bonded over taking out the people who had hurt them and agreed to help each other take those people down. James and Nat’s people were the bigger threat, so they went after Hydra and the Soviets first, slowly tearing down the organizations bit by bit until they were sure nothing remained.

Now, they were in Phil and Clint's living room, sitting in a silent room as Phil processed the information given to him.

“My family,” Phil started, his voice weak and thick with emotion, “They own a cabin upstate that they don't use anymore. It may need to be cleaned up, but you're welcome to stay there as long as you need, or want. It's fifteen minutes from town, so you'd have plenty of privacy.”

James looked taken aback, “You're going to help me?”

“You're one of Clint's best friends,” Phil's voice had gotten stronger, “And I don't want people to think you're a bad man, when I know you aren't. Hydra stripped away your humanity and made you do their dirty work. I won't let Shield or any other government agency know you're alive. If they do, they'll put you in prison, and you don't deserve that.” Phil realised he was using his mission voice and toned it down, “We can take you upstate sometime this week. The Director gave me the rest of the week off.”

James looked to Clint, “Your boyfriend is something else.”

“Oh, I know.” Clint was on the other side of James, and Nat was wedged between Clint and the arm of the couch.

They had heard about James’ past before. Hearing it the second time was worse because it reminded them of what he had lived through. James was their friend. Clint didn't know about Nat, but he would momentarily forget they had all a long run of shitty happenings.

Clint watched Phil as he listened intently, absorbing and processing what James was telling him. He was probably trying to process the fact that James “Bucky” Barnes was alive and sitting next to him. Clint wondered how Phil was keeping his cool. Phil didn't talking about his love for Captain America and his history often. When he did, Clint saw Phil's ten year old self resurface for a split second. Phil went with the flow so frequently, he didn't get excited about much. He loved seeing Phil’s eyes sparkle with interest.

He also loved Phil for doing everything possible to help Nat and James. Maybe Phil was right. They should have gone to him for help. Phil obviously had some sort of pull at Shield, he probably could have gotten a team together without questions being asked.

Clint disturbed Nat’s comfortable perch to stand up and go sit with Phil. She glared at him for a moment, but he ignored it.

“Are we OK?” Clint asked, his voice small.

Phil wrapped an arm around him, squeezing gently, “I think we need to have a serious talk, but yes, we'll be OK.”

Clint only leaned over to kiss him.

He was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about writing more for this and making it a series, but I have so many other story ideas to write. Who knows, maybe someday I'll write more. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Virtual cookies for kudos and comments. :D


End file.
